What Is It
by humhallelujah
Summary: Post HbP. Harry sits at his desk in class, unmoving. One person decides she's had enough, and wants to get him back with his friends. Includes a poem.


**Summary: Post-HbP. Harry sits at his desk in class, unmoving. One person decides she's had enough, and wants to get him back with his friends.**

**This started out as a depressing poem. It turned into a fic. I wanted to add a minor character in to help Harry. I chose Parvarti. Her twin sister's in Ravenclaw, so she must be smart, and Parvarti can't be girly all the time—she has to have her serious moments too!**

**I can't put this note at the bottom 'cause it ruins the mood, but my favorite line in this fic is 'Bestow upon us our gruesome fates'. Mwahaha.**

**This is probably a one-shot, but if people want me to continue, make it a romance, or what ever, I will do so. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. The poem is 100 mine, though!**

_**What Is It**_

Human Transfiguration is not an easy thing. Not even taking notes for it. It requires perfect concentration and dedication, as Professor McGonagall told her students.

Therefore, nobody was concentrated. Not even McGonagall, who was too distressed to teach properly. Dumbledore was dead… just one more day of teaching left, then the funeral.

The Slytherins were huddled up in one group, talking to each other and whispering. Arguing about whether it was good Dumbledore was dead or not. As there were no Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs in that class, they could not be doing anything.

But the Gryffindors (save Hermione and Ron) were all staring at classmate Harry Potter.

He hadn't been himself since the death. Rumors had been confirmed that Harry himself witnessed it, and that ex-Professor Snape was the one who had… done it.

Since then, Harry had been, well, dead. Void of life, deceased, departed, all in a figurative form.

Sure, Dumbledore was a great headmaster, yes, the best they ever knew of, but there seemed like there was something else. Something else that bothered him beyond all reason.

And when one Gryffindor was depressed, the others were off their rocker. Especially the ones in the same year.

Neville was more forgetful, not watering his numerous plants and frequently looking over his shoulder at his friend's expression.

Ron and Hermione already knew what happened, and apparently thought Harry need space.

Seamus had taken to wandering the halls searching for him, and trying to approach him about the event. He ran away before he could reach him.

Dean showered him with frequent acts of kindness, offering to sneak him some candy, let him copy his homework, give him the last of the Puking Pastilles, et cetera. Harry accepted them with sincerity, but in a dull tone.

Lavender spent time hanging on his arm, thinking that maybe romance would cheer him up. When it didn't, she started to send him other girls, nice, sweet ones, hoping he'd feel better.

Parvarti didn't really know what to do, and had just been staring at him, trying to think of reasons for his behavior. Each was more ridiculous then the next.

It was like a giant mystery, and she loved mysteries. But this puzzle was missing pieces, pieces that were in impossible places to reach.

Like Harry Potter.

Sometimes she felt like she was so close, like if she reached out a little bit more, if she got one more clue, she could figure it out. And just when she thought she had a firm grasp, he slipped away again.

It was just so… frustrating.

All her observations, all her worries were bothering her immensely. So she did what she always did when her thoughts got cluttered up.

She wrote. Her quill skidded across the paper meant to be for notes, leaving girlish handwriting behind.

And when she was finished, she looked at her poem with new eyes, and decided that she had had enough. Harry couldn't remain depressed all the time, anyway. He had to talk sometime.

He just needed that one little push. Parvarti added a little note under her signature, and with that last flourish, folded the paper in half.

She used her wand to levitate the note right in front of Harry's face onto his desk, and at first, he didn't notice.

So she could only wait, and doodle on the rest of her paper with the rest of the class.

The other Gryffindors had seen Parvarti get the note to Harry, and they were filled with genuine curiosity. So the last ten minutes of class went extremely slow for everyone.

And then the bell rang.

Parvarti watched anxiously as Harry picked up his things, slow as molasses. The note, unnoticed, fell to the ground.

She groaned. Now she had to give it to him personally.

Taking a deep breath, she walked up to him and picked up the note.

"You dropped this." she mumbled quietly.

He looked at her rather oddly, like one might a stranger. "I don't think so."

"You dropped this." She just repeated.

Looking at her and perhaps realizing her intentions, he studied her carefully. But curiosity won over and he took the note, nodding thanks.

The whole room of Gryffindors (McGonagall and the Slytherins had long since left) held their breath as Harry read the note.

_Tell me, what is it that bothers you so_

_That unseen force that brings you so low_

_I know it seems like I don't care_

_And all I think about is clothes and hair_

_But your look scares me, it melts me down_

_You walk around so haunted, wearing a frown_

_Running from running, fearing just fears_

_Trying to escape from unwanted tears_

_What is this horror that stalks you and then_

_Locks you up in your misery pen_

_What is it that frightens you, though you won't admit_

_That you too can feel, just a little bit._

_You know that you're cooped up, stressed all the way_

_Afraid you'll explode, and ruin everyone's day_

_You hide your feelings, not wanting to lose a friend_

_Without them to help you through, it's really the end_

_What is it that bothers you all the time_

_With every single old clock's chime_

_You walk around like a ghost, gliding on air_

_Forgetting that still the whole school is there_

_Skipping classes and meals, becoming pale_

_We all try to help you, but to no avail_

_What is it that guides you away from me_

_When we try to talk, you simply flee_

_Don't be afraid to tell, not at all_

_We're Gryffindor, we're not afraid to fall!_

_Remember that after all these years_

_We're a team, we share all our fears_

_Talk to us; give us all of your weights_

_Bestow upon us our gruesome fates_

_We don't mind, really, it's true_

'_Cause by doing this, we're helping you_

_So please, one day, if you have a spare moment_

_Share with us friends your deadly ailment!_

_Parvarti Patil_

_P.S. Gryffindor Sixth Year meeting in ROR? After class?_

He stared at it for a moment, awed and surprised that they all… cared, really.

His head rose slowly, and he awkwardly realized that everyone's eyes were on him. His thoughts begged him to agree. _You don't have to tell them about the Horcruxes. _He pondered. _Just the truth about Dumbledore. How you feel._

Parvarti was standing right in front of him, anxiously staring, hoping he would do something. _Say anything, _she thought. _Just give me a sign of agreement!_

And after a moment of staring into every one of his classmate's eyes, he turned to her and smiled.


End file.
